


A whisper in the ear

by Persiflage



Series: The Ways You Said 'I Love You' [12]
Category: Holby City
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Schmanon, Cheerfully Ignoring Any and All Canon as the Lord Intended, Cuddling & Snuggling, Elinor Campbell (mentioned), Established Relationship, F/F, Light Angst, Minor Original Character(s), Prompt Fic, Teashops, Tender loving care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:46:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25643005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: Canon divergence: Bernie never went to Nairobi and she's been there to comfort Serena on both the anniversaries of Elinor's death.
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Series: The Ways You Said 'I Love You' [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1750207
Comments: 16
Kudos: 49





	A whisper in the ear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sevtacular](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevtacular/gifts), [Lapal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lapal/gifts), [Rauz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rauz/gifts).



> From the list of prompts _The Ways You Said 'I Love You'._
> 
> I'm hoping the TLC for Serena from Bernie will make up for the angst of this one.

“I love you, Serena Wendy Campbell. You are a very special and very precious person.” Strong arms wrap around Serena’s waist as her partner whispers the words in her ear and she doesn’t hesitate to lean back against the sturdy body standing at her back. As she gazes at her daughter’s grave she can’t help feeling grateful for the woman who literally and figuratively has her back and has done for the last two years, despite Serena’s grief-stricken attempts to drive her off in the aftermath of Elinor’s death.

Eventually she turns around and meets Bernie Wolfe’s warm gaze. “Thank you,” she says softly. “I love you, too.” She wraps her arms around Bernie’s slender frame and is grateful when the blonde presses a kiss to her forehead as her arms tighten around Serena’s body. 

“Thank you for coming with me,” Serena says.

“Always,” Bernie says. “So long as you want me to, I’ll come with you.”

Serena blinks back the threatening tears and sniffles a little. A moment later Bernie’s right arm loosens its hold on her and after another moment a packet of tissues appears in her line of sight. She utters a watery chuckle, murmurs her thanks, and pulls a tissue from the packet to dry her eyes.

“Do you want to stay a bit longer or shall we go and find somewhere warmer?” asks Bernie after Serena’s used three tissues, then taken the packet from her and pocketed it.

Serena lifts her head and presses her lips to Bernie’s, and the blonde’s arms tighten around her again as she softly kisses her back. Then Serena blinks as something damp settles on her cheek. She pulls back and discovers that snowflakes are falling, landing, and melting on their faces and in Bernie’s hair where it’s escaped from the knit cap she’s wearing.

“Let’s get out of here,” Serena agrees, and lets Bernie tuck her hand through her arm as they walk across the cemetery to the gates, then out onto the street to find Bernie’s car.

“How does hot tea and buttered crumpets sound?” the blonde asks as they climb into the car.

“Where?” asks Serena. She knows for a fact that they don’t have any crumpets at home.

“There’s a little teashop not too far from here,” Bernie tells her, with a soft smile.

“Okay.”

Serena feels touched that Bernie so often does things like this – takes her to charming, out of the way teashops and coffeeshops, or to delightfully cosy restaurants with extensive wine lists. She might be reticent when it comes to speaking her feelings aloud (the declaration in the cemetery notwithstanding), but Bernie shows Serena how much she cares in other ways: she very much embodies the idea that actions speak louder than words. Serena appreciates it because Edward was always more inclined to use words to try to blag his way out of whatever trouble his cheating had got him into. Whereas Bernie shows Serena how much she loves her with a myriad of gestures big and small, and Serena’s never felt so thoroughly cared for as she does with Bernie Wolfe. 

The teashop is as charming as Serena anticipated and as out of the way as Bernie had promised, which means it’s not crowded with New Year shoppers trying to warm up after a spending spree in the cold and snow.

“Do you want anything besides tea and crumpets?” Bernie asks as they make their way inside, unbuttoning coats, loosening scarves, and removing hats.

Serena checks the time, remembering that she hasn’t eaten much all day. She hadn’t managed breakfast at all, and lunch had consisted of a strong, hot coffee and a pain au chocolat that Bernie had brought home from Pulse on her return from her nightshift. Bernie had slept through lunch, having got home from the hospital late thanks to a trauma case that needed her skills.

“If they’ve got any sandwiches, I wouldn’t say no.”

Bernie nods, pecks at her lips, then says, “You grab us a table and I’ll see what they’ve got left.”

Serena nods, then turns and surveys the room, immediately spotting that the only occupied table, by the actual, honest to god genuine fireplace is being vacated by a couple of women even older than she and Bernie, and as soon as the pair are half way to the door, Serena heads for the table.

Before she can sit down a young woman appears and whisks the used crockery, cutlery, and napkins onto a tray, then sprays the table before she wipes it down.

“All yours, madam,” the young woman tells her with a bright smile.

“Thank you.” Serena manages to force the words out, before sitting down heavily.

Moments later Bernie’s beside her. “Oh, my love,” she says softly, and Serena can’t quite hold back her tears, both at the understanding tone in Bernie’s voice and the fact the young woman was a redhead about Ellie’s age.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” Bernie asks as Serena retrieves the packet of tissues from her coat pocket.

“N-No,” she stutters. “I’m being silly.”

“No, you’re not,” Bernie says firmly. “I’ll be back in a moment.” She squeezes Serena’s free hand in both of her own, then heads back to the counter, where she enters into a brief, earnest looking discussion with the older woman behind the counter.

When she returns, Bernie helps Serena out of her coat, draping it and her own over the back of one of the free chairs at their table. Serena’s big furry hat rests on the seat and their scarves join their coats.

“I’m sorry,” Serena says when she’s got herself under control.

“Don’t be,” Bernie says immediately. “You’ve absolutely nothing to be sorry about. It’s not your fault, okay.” She squeezes both of Serena’s hands between her own, then leans in to peck briefly at her lips. “You don’t ever need to apologise for the ways in which your grief manifests itself. You know that.”

Serena nods, thinking of her therapist’s words on the matter. “I feel silly, though.”

Bernie frees one of her hands to stroke her fingertips through the hair by Serena’s ear. “There’s nothing silly about being triggered by the sight of a redhaired young woman of a similar age to Ellie on the anniversary of her death,” she says reassuringly.

Before she can respond a different woman, brown haired and in her thirties, Serena thinks, approaches with a fully laden tray. 

“Thanks, Jessica,” Bernie says, and helps to unload the tray with an indifference to the propriety of assisting a waitress to do her job which, Serena can’t help thinking, is a typical Bernie gesture. 

Their table is soon full of tea things: a fat brown teapot under a bumblebee tea cosy; a plate full of cucumber and egg mayonnaise sandwiches cut into triangles; a second plate holding hot, buttered crumpets, while a third plate holds chocolate muffins. There are two individual plates, two napkins, two forks, and two teacups and saucers, as well as a milk jug and a sugar bowl.

“I presume someone’s hungry,” Serena asks and Bernie’s face lights up at the mildly teasing tone. 

“Well, I slept through lunch, and breakfast was a croissant too many hours ago.” Bernie pours them both a cup of tea. “Besides, I know that you probably haven’t eaten much today besides that pain au chocolat I brought home from Pulses.”

“How well you know me,” Serena says softly, accepting a hot buttered crumpet from the plate Bernie holds out.

“Take two,” Bernie urges, and Serena does, shaking her head a little in disbelief that she should be so lucky as to have Bernie Wolfe in her life.

When they leave the teashop an hour later the snow has stopped again, although the ground is very wet underfoot. 

“Come on love,” Bernie says, tucking Serena’s arm through the crook of her elbow. “Let’s get you home.”

“Thank you, Bernie.”

“Any time, love.” 

SC-BW-SC-BW-SC

After spending the remainder of the afternoon curled up on the sofa watching _Mrs Doubtfire_ , they have a light supper prepared by Bernie, then they retire early to bed. Bernie has a couple of days off work to make up for working nightshifts for the past week and a half, and Serena has the whole of the first week of January off, something she instituted last year, on the first anniversary of Elinor’s death because she hadn’t been certain how well she would manage at work in the run up to the anniversary or its aftermath.

When they’re snuggled up in bed together, Bernie spooning Serena and their legs tangled together, Serena voices the thought that’s been in her mind all day, “I don’t know how I’d have got through the last couple of years without you.”

Bernie squeezes her carefully, her arms wrapped around Serena’s midriff. “I think you’d have managed,” she says softly. “Because you’re a tough cookie.” Her nose nuzzles into the space behind Serena’s ear. “But I’m glad you didn’t have to manage alone.”

“So am I.” Serena turns her head a bit and Bernie shifts so that they can share a deep, gentle kiss. “I love you, Bernie Wolfe.”

Bernie’s smile is as devastating as ever to Serena. “I love you, too.” She ducks her head, pressing her forehead to Serena’s shoulder ,and she hears the trauma surgeon yawn. “Sorry.”

Serena chuckles softly. “It’s fine, love. Go to sleep now.”

“G’night, Serena,” Bernie murmurs, sounding as if she’s already halfway there. 

“Goodnight Bernie.”

“I love you.” 

The words are whispered in Serena’s ear once more. She smiles as she sinks into sleep, feeling safe and cherished in Bernie Wolfe’s arms.


End file.
